The Other Guy
by jakela
Summary: Will Joss' dating another man finally force John to admit his feelings for her?
1. Chapter 1

**The Other Guy**

Chapter 1: Punch Drunk Love

For the first time, John Reese had to admit that he hadn't been paying attention. Joss had a lot of admirers, but 99 percent of them were married, colleagues or friends, so they were readily dismissed. Even when she did go out with someone, the budding relationship couldn't overcome the two priorities in her life – her son and her work.

So when this guy approached her at a grocery store of all places, Reese wasn't worried. They'd go out for a drink or two, and then it would be over, he thought. Even when the guy was still hanging around after three months, he still wasn't worried – they'd had several coffee dates, a few quick lunches, and a couple of casual dinners, nothing special. Joss still spent the majority of her time away from work and Taylor with him, still flirted outrageously with him, never mentioned the guy.

She didn't even complain when one of those casual dinners was interrupted by a new number, so Reese wasn't worried.

It wasn't until he came to pick up Taylor for their weekly gun range and self-defense session, or 'shoot and boot' lessons as Taylor dubbed them, and the guy was sitting on Joss' couch, that Reese realized he'd missed something. The guy had met Taylor, was in Joss' home – _when_ did that happen?

Now Reese was worried.

Taylor introduced them.

"Jocelyn says you're a good friend of the family,' the other guy said, "That you work together."

"Sometimes," Reese replied. For an immature moment, he noted that he was taller and in better shape than Joss' suitor, but then he reminded himself, the other guy had Joss in his arms and probably – he clenched his fists – in his bed.

Joss came bustling into the living room. She was wearing a beautiful dark red dress that highlighted her perfect skin and killer legs. "Sorry I'm late – hey, John," she gave the other guy a quick hug.

"You look fantastic," the other guy said, kissing her. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." She smiled at Reese and her son. "Remember, self-defense _only._" Giving Taylor a quick kiss on the cheek, Joss left the apartment with the other guy.

Taylor gave him an innocent look.

"Shut it," Reese growled.

"I didn't say anything!," the teenager protested. "Let's go to the gym first. You're going to need to punch something."

TBC

A/N: This will be a fairly short story with ~3-4 chapters. A companion piece, which I've tentatively titled, The Other Guy – Joss' POV, will be in more detail and the rating will rise accordingly.


	2. Chapter 2 Joss' POV, Part 1

The Other Guy – Joss' POV, Part 1

A/N: I decided to merge the two stories, so Joss' story will alternate with John's. There will be ~ 9 chapters in total. In terms of a timeline, Chapter 1 and the rest of John's story takes place during April. Since Joss' POV details how her relationship with the other guy led to him sitting on her couch in Chapter 1, her story traces events starting in January. I'll note the month at the start of each chapter/section.

**April**

Jocelyn Carter had never seen herself as one of those women who played games with men. She'd married young, had a few relationships after her husband died, but every man she spent time with knew exactly where he stood with her. When her friends urged her to read _The Rules_, _He's Just Not That Into You_ or _Act Like a Lady,_ _Think Like a_ _Man, _she retorted that she was too busy and even if she had the time, she simply wasn't interested.

Yet, as she ran barefoot down a New York City sidewalk on a rapidly cooling April afternoon, praying she could fix the mess she'd made of three people's lives, she thought that's exactly what she'd turned into.

**January**

Like all sad love stories, it started innocently enough. Rushing into the organic market on a Friday night with thoughts of finally putting a healthy dinner on the table, Joss headed towards the ready-to-go shelves. Unfortunately everyone else in the city had been intent on following their New Year's resolutions as well - the shelves were almost bare, and while what was left might have been appetizing to someone else, it all looked tan, dry and tasteless to her.

"It doesn't look good, does it?"

"Hmm?" She wasn't really paying attention, wondering if the corner deli was still open.

"The selection – it doesn't look good."

She turned, meeting a pair of deep set hazel eyes. "No it doesn't. Guess I got here too late."

He smiled, "This is going to sound strange, but we have plenty of food for the taking." Laughing at her quizzical expression, he said "We just finished an Enviro-Action board meeting. You're welcome to take whatever you'd like." Pointing to a small conference room, she could see that while the lights were dim, there were people inside, milling around a table that was covered with a variety of earthenware casseroles and wicker baskets. "You'd be doing us a favor by taking some of the food.

"I promise, we're harmless," his eyes flickered towards her waist, "and I swear you're the only one who's armed."

She tilted her head, smiling, "I don't know, I bet a turnip could pack a pretty good wallop."

"Remind me to tell you about the town meeting I attended last month – I _wished_ turnips were flying. I wound up wearing a plastic bag home." He held out his hand.

She laughed. "Okay, okay…Jocelyn Carter."

"Steven Piascik." They shook hands. Medium height, with a stocky build and wavy strawberry blonde hair, he had a guileless open face that Joss suspected concealed a fierce intelligence, judging by the easy way he was able to dissuade her natural reluctance about walking into a room full of strangers, mooching dinner. Lightly touching the small of her back, he escorted her into the room.

The selection was huge, the people were friendly, and after enduring a few jibes about the way the police handled a recent sit-in at the Mayor's office, and making her own about a celebrated sustainability guru who turned out to be anything but, she realized Operation Healthy, But Not Choice as Taylor dubbed it, was going to be delayed again. Ceding defeat, at least for one more night, she excused herself, called her son and told him that he could order a pizza.

When she stepped back into the room, Steven handed her a cup of coffee. "Why don't you sit down? Mrs. Mirabelli is putting together something for you." He nodded to a tiny woman who was busily filling a stack of containers.

They exchanged basic biographical information. Steven Piascik was a trusts and estates attorney with a well-respected firm in the city, divorced with a ten year old daughter. Originally from the Midwest, he'd come to the city for college and law school. "I met my now ex-wife and the rest as they say is history."

"How did you get involved with Enviro-Action?" Joss asked, nibbling on some organic tortilla chips.

"The firm is very committed to the community. We do a lot of pro bono work. My daughter is into vermicomposting – worms," he laughed at the look on her face, "they – and my daughter - live with my ex - and that got me thinking about extending our outreach to environmental organizations. Enviro-Action is a good group – they do a lot of work setting up community gardens, farmer's markets, relaxing restrictions on establishing small farms, etc. We help them navigate some of the legalities."

Mrs. Mirabelli put a tote with the filled containers on the table in front of Joss. "Laws are like weeds – there's always another one popping up!" She winked at Joss. "Steven's firm has been a great help to us."

Joss thanked her. "My son did a lot of work last year planting a vegetable garden for St. Sebastian's soup kitchen as part of his school's outreach program. There's been talk about partnering to establish a green roof over the homeless shelter."

Steven nodded. "Reduces their heating and cooling costs, manages storm water runoff – some organizations even put livestock on their green roofs. Enviro-Action has a list of successful installations in the city they might want to check out." He handed her his card. "Give me a call. There might be a few things I can help the church or your son's school with."

He insisted on carrying the tote to her car, and as they walked down the street, he said, "Would you like to have coffee sometime?"

Joss smiled. "Steven -"

He smiled back. "Let me rephrase." His face was intent, serious. "I'd like to get to know you better, Jocelyn...unless you already have someone in your life."

"I don't…," on the edges of her mind, she glimpsed gray eyes, a silky whisper and strong dexterous hands, "know."

Realizing by his expression that she had actually spoken her thoughts aloud, she said, "I don't know if you might be available… tomorrow?"

He studied her a moment, then nodded, as if making a decision. "Call me in an hour and I'll give you a place and a time." Touching her hand, he waited for her to get into her car and then he headed back towards the grocery store.

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Sitting in the back of a chauffeured town car, Joss thought wryly that Steven Piascik's idea of coffee was radically different from hers. As he requested, she called him an hour after leaving the organic market for a time and a meeting place. Correctly anticipating that she would be reluctant to have him meet her at her home, he had designated a spot near Washington Square. It took a few minutes for the chauffeur to convince her that he was waiting for her. When she slipped into the backseat there was a single flower and a note - they would be heading to Cliffside, an exclusive restaurant just outside the city.

Joss was surprised to see only one other car in the parking lot as they pulled in. She stepped inside the building and an elegant silver haired man introduced himself as the owner, took her coat and led her into the main dining area. Steven was standing by a bank of windows that had a stunning view of the Hudson River. Snow from two days before covered the steep cliffs and the contrast with the dark blue water was dazzling.

Dressed in a sharply tailored blue suit that highlighted his bright hair, Steven stepped forward, taking her hand. Murmuring "Beautiful," he kissed her cheek, his eyes roving in appreciation over her pale yellow sweater dress that was demure yet clung to her curves.

"We're the only ones here?" Joss asked as Steven led her to a table.

"They opened early so that we could have the place to ourselves for a while. The views here are spectacular, even in winter."

She listened as he talked about his hardscrabble childhood, a promising football career sidelined during high school when their team bus was hit by a drunk driver, full academic scholarship to an Ivy League college and an early partnership at the firm. Fresh out of law school he had managed to scrape together enough money to invest with two enterprising college classmates and the investment had paid off. Steven Piascik was very intelligent, very accomplished and very rich.

Coffee morphed into lunch. As the restaurant officially opened and other patrons came in, they talked about their law school experiences and the challenges of modern parenting. After lunch they stepped out onto the terrace. Steven pointed out places along the cliffs where birds nested in the spring. Coming close behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders, his lips next to her ear. "I want to spend a lot of time with you, Jocelyn. A woman as beautiful as you should never be alone."

Joss closed her eyes. The afternoon sun and his hands on her shoulders threatened to awaken something inside her that had been still for a long time, but this was too much, too soon. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from him, turned and faced him.

He met her eyes. "I apologize, that was inappropriate."

"I'm not going to fall into bed with you, Steven, just because I've been alone for a long time."

"I know...Can we back up? If you agree to see me again, it _will_ just be for coffee – from a vending machine."

She tilted her head, a soft smile stealing across her face. "That's one way to _never_ see me again. Let's go back inside before we freeze."

As the chauffeur opened the car door for her, Steve took her hand, but he didn't try to kiss her. "I had a wonderful time, Jocelyn."

"I did too. I'll call you."

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When Joss entered her apartment John Reese was loading photos onto Taylor's laptop. His gray eyes scanned her and Joss realized he had never seen her in a dress before. Smirking, he sang off-key, "She's got legs…"

"She knows how to use them," Joss shot back the ZZ Top* song lyric.

Taylor came out of the kitchen with a soda and an ice tea. "Sign of the apocalypse – Mom in a dress."

"Only if I have a Twinkie in one hand and a cigarette in the other – that's when you should say your prayers!" She went into her bedroom, changed into a sweater and jeans and came back into the living room to listen to John give his latest lesson to Taylor.

Almost every weekend, John had given Taylor shooting and self-defense lessons. They helped Taylor regain a sense of control after the kidnapping and Joss could tell they were healing something in John too, based on the amount of time he spent preparing for them. While they spent a lot of time in gyms and firing ranges, not all the lessons were physical. Today they had risen at the crack of dawn and visited various sites throughout the city, observing.

"The most critical aspect of self-defense is paying attention," John said, while Taylor listened intently. "How is the building laid out, who's acting strangely, what can I use as a weapon? Sometimes it's not about being the smartest or the strongest – it's knowing where the exits are." Taylor's task was to see if he could spot items John had planted at each site in the photos.

As she listened to them trade insults that indicated a growing affection between the man and her son, Joss finally allowed herself to examine the images that had popped into her head last night when Steven asked her if she had someone in her life. Okay, she admitted to herself, she'd been thinking of John.

John – arrogant, subversive, reckless.

John – flirting with anything that had a pulse - she suspected that he'd flirt with the guest of honor at a funeral - his charm and good looks could probably raise the dead.

John – who kept secrets, shut her out and suffered from a deep guilt that she wasn't sure would ever allow him to let anybody in.

John – who she looked forward to trading barbs with every day.

John – whose commitment to helping others humbled her.

John – who saved her and her son.

She slipped into her bedroom, called Steven and made arrangements to meet him for an early morning coffee next week.

TBC

*ZZ Top's 1984 song 'Legs'


	3. Chapter 3: Lost in Translation

Chapter 3: Lost in Translation

A/N: A very short chapter that illustrates how much can be said by saying so little.

**April**

After several ferociously violent hours at the gym – they never made it to the firing range – Reese finally asked Taylor the question that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

"What's he like?"

Translation: _What does she see in him?_

Taylor shrugged. "He's okay."

Translation: _He's not you, but you've never made a move on her._

"You like him?"

Translation: _Are you okay with me being with your mom?_

Another shrug. "I guess."

Translation: _Are you insane – of course!_

"You want to go to the range tomorrow?"

Translation: _Does your mom have plans (with him) on Sunday?_

"Can't. Mom's doing her income taxes. Learned a long time ago to make myself scarce. I'm spending the day with Jake."

Translation: _Nope. She'll be all alone and climbing the walls by noon. Stop by._

TBC

A/N: In Chapter 4, Joss' relationship with Steven goes to another level and in Chapter 5, Reese has a chat with the other guy.


	4. Chapter 4: Joss' POV, Part 2

Chapter 4: Joss' POV, Part 2

A/N: I hope you've noticed some of the contradictions in this tale. John gives Taylor a lesson on paying attention, while he's not paying attention to what's going on with Joss, and Joss calls Steven while she's thinking about John – just showing how very human John and Joss are.

In this chapter, Steven invites Joss for a drink at his place.

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me.

**April**

At first, Joss ran north – No, she thought, too many people.

She stopped, thinking: where, where?

The park. She ran south.

**January**

When Steven walked into the coffee shop, Joss was scanning through some emails on her phone. Taylor's school was asking all the parents to propose some new presenters to the annual Career Day event - no, Joss corrected herself, they called it _Aspirations_ Day now and it extended into the evening - that was coming up in two weeks.

After they talked about pending legislation out of Albany, the next 'blizzard of the century' that threatened this weekend and a new mystery by one of their favorite authors, Joss asked Steven if his firm might be able to help. "Maybe someone in one your firm's other divisions," she said, laughing at his look of mock outrage. "Not that your division isn't very exciting."

"I'll make you a bet that the session given by members of my team will be the best attended of all of them. I can prove it right now. If I'm right, will you give me a kiss?"

"And if you're wrong?"

The smile told her he wouldn't be wrong.

Joss knew she'd walked straight into a trap, but she wasn't going to back down. "Sure, it's a bet."

Steven's fingers moved slowly across his handheld. "A growing area for my division are land trusts. Some people want to leave a legacy for the future, but it can be tricky. For example, there was a case where a couple purchased a home on land controlled by a land trust. The couple agreed as part of the purchase to leave the land around the house in its natural state. Five years later, the couple wanted to put in a lawn, the land trust objected and it led to fist fights and shotguns full of rock salt. There was some ambiguity re: what a natural state was, and lapses on both sides re: maintenance of the land. Throw in that the head of the land trust's son was involved with the homeowners' daughter – you get the picture. My firm was asked to straighten the mess out."

"Sounds like it was action-packed."

"It was. I put three of my best people on it." He showed her the screen, scrolling through his division's organizational chart, which included photos and a biography of each staffer.

Kerry Chan, Elizabeth Mugabe and Allison Turner were accomplished and gorgeous, each one a teenage boy's dream and a teenage girl's hope.

"They're smart, beautiful and they have great stories to tell…what about that kiss?"

His lips were cool and dry, the kiss soft and lingering. "Since there are three associates, I think you owe me two more kisses," he murmured, kissing her two more times.

Joss felt that something inside her, begin to stir.

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"You know, you didn't have to be here," she smiled.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Jocelyn."

Joss and Steven stood at the back of the auditorium. After their photos were posted on the school's Aspirations Day website and a visit by Elizabeth Mugabe to campus to finalize arrangements revealed she had a figure that Tyra Banks would kill for, the evening session featuring the three associates was moved to this large space to accommodate both students and their parents – the auditorium was full. As Steven had noted, they were smart, beautiful and had some great stories to tell. They didn't gloss over the drudgery of law school and the pressure of trying to make it at a high profile law firm, but they also talked about the satisfaction of a job well done and the great feeling you got when you helped someone. There was loud applause, shouts and whistles at the end of their talk.

As the other students crowded around the associates, Taylor came up to Joss and Steven; Joss introduced them. "Everyone's been calling them _Charlie's Angels_, but I guess we should call them Steven's Angels instead," Taylor said, as they shook hands.

Steven laughed. "They probably _wish_ I was just a voice on the phone – they can shut a phone off. I'm always barging into their offices with more work."

The three chatted for a few minutes, then Steven went to his congratulate his associates.

"So that's Mr. Coffee," Taylor said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I've seen him a few times." Joss waited for an additional comment or quip from her son, but Taylor was silent, watching Steven with an appraising look on his face. Before she could say anything, he was called away by one of his classmates.

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**February**

"Oh…I saw your son today." Steven said.

"Really?" Joss put down her sandwich.

"Had to take a detour after the water main break on 60th the morning. He was coming out of a gym near the new convention center with a tall dark-haired guy."

"He's a friend of the family…does Big Brother type stuff with Taylor. You know, they go to the gym, hiking, stuff like that. No big deal, maybe once or twice a month." Joss was aware she was saying too much, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "Taylor likes him," she finished lamely.

Steven looked at her closely. "Were you involved with him, Jocelyn?"

"Noooooo…definitely not."

"You said it's not a formal arrangement. So, how did they meet?" He was smiling, but Joss could see that fierce intelligence working.

"We've worked together in the past…he mentioned he liked to hike, Taylor likes to hike, it just went from there." Inwardly, she was cringing. You used to be an interrogator, what are you doing?, she said to herself.

"He's a government guy?"

"I really can't talk about it. So… the exhibit we're seeing this afternoon – you said you know the sculptor?"

She could tell he knew to give up – at least for today. "Yes, I posed for her, when I was in my poor student days," he patted his stomach ruefully, "a few pounds ago."

Joss had checked her website – time to turn the tables. "She's known for her nudes…is there something I should know?"

His face turned red, but he was smiling. "I'll let you find that out for yourself, Jocelyn."

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During an after lunch walk, Steven turned a speculative eye on her. "So, what's next after being a cop?"

"What do you mean?" Joss asked.

"You've been a soldier, you have a law degree, worked your way up to Detective – what's your next career move – corporate security?"

"I like being a cop, Steven."

"Really?" He looked skeptical.

"Yes, really." She smiled, realizing he was serious. "Why?"

"You're a striver, Jocelyn, like me. You work hard and I can tell by the books you read you're always looking for ways to improve yourself. When I invested all those years ago, it made me rich, and I enjoy everything it brings me, but I didn't earn it. I'll always work and I think you will too.

"I feel a real commitment to serving the public. That's why I became a soldier and that's why I'm a cop." Joss didn't add that there was also something viscerally satisfying about looking a criminal in the eye and letting them know without a word that, 'Before the lawyers defend you, before the court system plea bargains you and before the therapists say you came from a really nice family, I know what you did.' It was also why working with Reese, Finch and Fusco was so satisfying, even if she'd never admit it.

Steven had a challenging gleam in his eye. "Would you want your son to be a cop?"

"I'd want my son to be whatever he wants to be…and to always be nice to his mother."

"Now you're going overboard," he said.

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Coffee had progressed to lunch and lunch had progressed to dinner. On a Saturday afternoon, they had gone to a basketball game at his college alma mater, then driven to a rustic inn outside the city for dinner. Since Joss had been catching up on her paperwork that morning at the precinct, she had driven her car to Steven's apartment building, parking in his second assigned space, when they met outside his building.

"Would you like to come up for a drink," Steven asked as he pulled his car into his spot that evening.

The something inside was stirring softly. "Yes," she said.

Steven keyed the access code into the elevator as they rose to his floor. "After the divorce, this place became available. My daughter Skye and my ex-wife live two buildings down. I get to see her more often because we're so near each other."

Steven gave her a quick tour. His home was sleek and modern with a balcony that ran the length of the apartment, overlooking Central Park. The living room, dining room, library and master bedroom all opened onto the balcony. The kitchen and the other rooms, including his daughter's, were in the back.

"Let's sit in here," Steven said, leading her to the library. He pushed a button on the wall and a gas fireplace sprang to life. Walking over to a small bar, he poured two brandies while Joss sat on a couch in front of the fire.

Handing her the brandy, he sat down next to her. "I love to open the balcony doors while it's snowing and I have a fire going. It may snow late tonight…," his lips were close to her ear, "I hope you'll still be here to watch it with me."

Putting his brandy down, Steven kissed her hair. "God, the firelight against your skin...you're so beautiful, Jocelyn, so beautiful."

She put her brandy down, turning her body towards him for his kiss. He took her into his arms, kissing her deeply. His lips trailed down to her throat and he pushed her back on the couch, murmuring between kisses, "…I want you so much…let me make love to you….say yes, Jocelyn, say yes…"

Joss felt the heat of the fire, the heat of his body and the heat of his words enveloping her, smothering her. She pulled his face to hers, kissing him to stop the flow of words. They stretched out on the couch and Steven pulled down the zipper on her sweater, his hand cupping her breast through her t-shirt. As she arched her body towards his, waiting for that something inside her to finally come to life, she felt it.

A vibration, in her jeans pocket.

"Steven – wait, wait, stop." She pushed him back, pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Unregistered number.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." Standing up, she moved away from him and answered the phone. "Carter."

Finch was calm, but she could hear the strain in his voice. "Detective, I'm sorry to bother you, but I think our friends may need your assistance."

"What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. We were cut off, but I think I heard gunfire."

"Give me an address."

She hung up, turned to Steven. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Steven rose from the couch, followed her to the foyer and got her coat. "Jocelyn – "

"I'll call you." She stepped into the elevator.

Moving quickly, she jumped in her car and drove to the address Finch had given her. It was an old construction site, deserted, with plastic flapping and the pipes from scaffolding rattling in the air. Coverage was spotty in this area, so Joss wasn't surprised that she couldn't reach Reese and Fusco by phone.

She ran through the site, gun drawn, looking and listening for movement. Finally she saw something tall and white moving towards her.

It was Reese. He was on a piece of scaffolding, covered in what appeared to be plaster dust from head to foot. Fusco was right behind him.

Holstering her gun, Joss broke into a wide grin. "Finch said you needed help. He thought he heard gunfire, but it looks like you just need a shower."

"Nice to see you, too, Detective. The gunfire Finch heard was Lionel shooting at a raccoon."

Fusco growled, "Raccoons have rabies. Casper here –"

There was a sharp crack. The part of scaffolding that Fusco was standing on gave way and he plunged out of sight.

"Fusco!" Joss ran under the scaffolding. She heard a thump – Reese had jumped down and was right behind her.

Lionel was struggling to get out of a muddy puddle. He'd fallen in face first and was covered in shards of ice, mud and gravel.

"Are you okay?" Joss asked, as she and Reese helped him up.

"I'll live – unfortunately. Let's get out of here before this shithole falls down on top of us."

"What about the number?" Joss asked.

"No show." Reese said, "Or maybe the raccoon got him."

They looked at her expectantly. Joss realized they had come on foot. She shook her head. "Come on...just don't get near me. You're paying to have everything cleaned."

As they walked towards the street, Joss thought about how her evening had gone from a beautiful apartment to a cold construction site, from an elegant man who wanted to make love to her, to two filthy dirty men who wanted her to give them a ride. She started laughing uncontrollably. At first Reese and Fusco looked annoyed, but then as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, under a streetlight and saw how they looked, Fusco started to laugh and even Reese cracked a smile. "Sorry to ruin your night, Detective. Taylor mentioned you had plans."

"No big deal…I wouldn't have missed this for anything," Joss laughed.

Heat rushed through her body as the adrenaline started to ebb. She opened her jacket and sweater, flapping them to cool down, just as a large truck careened around the corner. A tidal wave of water doused her from neck to toes. Gasping as the icy cold water cascaded down her body, Joss stumbled backwards. Reese caught her in his arms before she fell. Their eyes met, held. She waited for him to set her back on her feet, but he just held her.

Fusco cleared his throat. "And the winner of the wet t-shirt contest, cougar division…" he joked.

Which of course, made things worse.

Reese's eyes went to her chest, slowly scanned the length of her body, then met her eyes again. The something inside her roared to life and she knew he felt it course through her body.

Finally Reese set her on her feet. They stood there staring at each other. Joss could hear Fusco shifting his feet nervously, waiting for someone to say something.

A car pulled up. "I'd thought I'd check on," Finch's eyes flickered over the three of them – Dusty, Muddy and Wet - , "my crack team for myself. The debrief should be fascinating."

"Harold, if you could give Lionel and I a ride…"

"Of course. Detective Carter –"

Joss didn't hear whatever else he had to say. Almost running, she jumped in her car and drove away.

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That night Joss spent a long time in the shower. After her husband passed away, once a week she'd take Taylor to her mother's, come home, turn on the shower full blast and cry. She couldn't bear thinking that anyone, including herself, could hear her tears.

She wasn't going to cry, but she knew something was welling up inside her. She got out of the shower, got ready for bed, but she was wide awake. She prowled the apartment, looking for a distraction, but nothing satisfied her. Whatever it was kept growing and growing and she became more and more agitated. Finally, she threw on her running clothes, left Taylor a note and ran out of the apartment an hour before dawn.

As she ran, at first her thoughts were incomplete and jumbled, like a pieces of a jigsaw puzzle dumped out of a box. Slowly, sentences began to form:

_I don't want to be like them_

_I can't be like them_

_I won't be like them_

Her chest began to ache, but she kept running. She thought of all the books, movies and songs that lauded unchecked passion, that being swept away by your emotions was right and desirable. They didn't talk about the other side, the side she saw every day in her job, where people gave up everything, their freedom, their families, their dignity, their _soul_, just for a few moments in someone else's arms.

_I don't want to be like them_

_I can't be like them_

_I won't be like them_

Of course John Reese had looked at her. She was soaking wet and her nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds. He's a man. Men look. It didn't mean anything. Her stomach felt queasy, but she kept running.

_I don't want to be like them_

_I can't be like them_

_I won't be like them_

Why did she feel more from his simple touch, than she did from all of Steven's kisses and caresses last night? Her legs began to wobble, but she kept running.

_I don't want to be like them_

_I can't be like them_

_I won't be like them – _

"Joss, stop, stop."

Strong arms wrapped around her. Her eyes began to focus and she realized that somehow she was in the park near her apartment, with the last person she wanted to see in the world. She pushed Reese away, snarling, "Back off!," drawing curious and concerned looks from the other park patrons. Lowering her arms, she sighed and let pull her over to one of the park benches.

"Sit down. You can barely stand." His fingers tight around her arms, he watched her, as her breath slowed. "What's wrong? Is it Taylor? Your mother?"

"No. It's nothing. I'm fine…why are you here?" He didn't say anything, just kept looking at her with those amazing eyes, and she felt that something start to spring to life again. She had to get away before he felt it. She tried to stand, but he held onto her and she blessed the anger which now spread through her system, covering everything.

"Joss –"

"I'm fine. Let me go, John," she said through clenched teeth.

"Joss –"

"Let. Me. Go."

He dropped his hands. Slowly, she made her way to her apartment. Fortunately, Taylor was still asleep. She decided to send Steven a brief text, but saw that he had left a message asking her to call him, any time before noon.

"Jocelyn, are you okay? Were you able to resolve last night's incident?"

"Yep, the streets of New York are safe again."

"As if I ever had a doubt. Listen, the head of Shetler Pharmaceuticals had a midnight epiphany and finally realized he's not immortal. He wants to put his affairs in order. I'm leaving for Washington State this afternoon, not sure when I'll be back," his voice softened, "but when I do come back, I'd like to finish what we started last night."

She took a deep breath. "I'd like that too, Steven. Safe travels."

TBC

A/N: I left how Reese got covered in plaster dust to your imagination. Somehow, I think the raccoon might have had something to do with it. Next: Reese and the other guy have a chat.


	5. Chapter 5: FaceOff

Chapter 5: Face/Off

A/N: John and Steven have a chat about Joss. The fact that they're having this conversation and the things that are said, may seem a little OOC for both, but in matters of the heart, we tend to do and say things that surprise us. Also, in their own way, both Reese and Steven are Alpha Males – they're used to getting what they want – and they both want Joss.

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me

**April**

Late that afternoon the other guy was walking out of Joss' apartment building as Reese and Taylor were coming up the sidewalk.

"Got a minute, Mr. Reese?"

John flicked his eyes over him. He had already checked him out at the apartment earlier that day, but it always paid to be sure – no weapons; the other guy's stance was tense, but not aggressive. "Sure. Let's take a walk."

They both raised an eyebrow at Taylor.

Translation: _Not a word to your mother about this._

Taylor raised an eyebrow back.

Translation: _Do I look stupid? _

The teen slipped into the building.

The two men walked over to a bar on the next block, found a secluded booth and ordered two beers. Reese leaned back and waited for the other man to speak.

"I'm in love with her, Mr. Reese. I realized today, you're in love with her, too."

No translation needed.

"Jocelyn and Taylor hold you in the highest regard - you're part of their lives professionally and personally. I'm sure I can rely on your honor as a gentleman not to interfere. Jocelyn and I have something special –"

"I'm not and you don't."

"Pardon me?"

"I'm not a gentleman and you don't have anything special with Joss," Reese leaned forward, "If you did, if you were _fucking_," – he spoke the word like a caress and was rewarded with the savage satisfaction of seeing an angry red flush spread over the other guy's face and neck - "her, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

The other guy leaned forward, "Taylor says you're a tough guy, a badass. I'm sure there's some complicated, _noble_ reason why you didn't go after her for yourself," he paused, a soft smile on his face, "I don't care – all that means to me is that you were too chicken shit to make the move I did."

John smiled back. The other guy wasn't so nice after all – he liked that. "You're right, which makes this conversation all the more curious, _Steven_."

"You can't give her what I can give her. You can't keep her safe."

Reese felt a cold chill emanate from his spine and spread throughout his body. When the guy, okay, Steven Piascik, came on the scene, Reese did an investigation of him, just as he did with anyone who came in contact with Joss and Taylor. The guy was clean, but he didn't get to where he was in this world without being able to read people and knowing when to go for the jugular. He somehow knew to say the one thing that would cut to the quick.

_You can't keep her safe._

Let's see you bleed, John thought. He lowered his voice to a silky whisper. "Maybe not, but I kept her out of your bed. Who do you think she went to, when she got that call at the end of February? You took her out, you showed her a nice time, maybe you took her back to your place, maybe you were _that_ close," he moved his left thumb and forefinger together slowly, "but she came to me, she'll _always_ come to me." He stood, whispering in the other guy's ear. "Think about that the next time you try to touch her."

He watched the color drain out of the other guy's face. Tossing a couple of bills on the table, he walked out of the bar, his bravado fading in the cool April air.

TBC

A/N: I split this chapter in two, because I felt the confrontation between Reese and Steven needed to stand alone. Next, we'll follow Reese out of the bar and learn a little more about his reaction to the chat with Steven and some of the things that happened earlier.


	6. Chapter 6: FaceOff, Continued

Chapter 6: Face/Off – continued

A/N: This angst filled chapter follows Reese out of the bar after his chat with Steven. While Steven has become a formidable opponent, we all know that the most dangerous opponent Reese has is himself.

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me.

**April**

To the casual observer, John Reese looked no different than any other New Yorker walking down the street – a little taller, perhaps; well dressed, but a lot of New Yorkers are; good looking, but the city draws beautiful people every day. You'd have to look at his eyes, and only if you knew him well, you might catch it, but nobody knew him well.

Nobody could tell that he'd had a seemingly civilized conversation with another well-dressed man, a conversation where their words were deadly weapons, slashing and tearing at each other, the wounds gaping, deep and to the bone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_You can't keep her safe._

He could get drunk

He could fuck someone

He could get in a fight

He could get drunk in a bar, seduce a guy's girlfriend in that bar, fuck her in a bathroom stall and then get into a fight with her boyfriend.

_You can't keep her safe._

Reese thought about the myriad ways he could dispatch Steven Piascik with his bare hands, going through them one at a time like a rosary of destruction, starting with the most clinical and impersonal and ending with the ones where the confrontation would be long, painful and bloody.

_You can't keep her safe. _

Steven Piascik was a JAG – Reese had refused to even think of him by name – just another guy, here one minute, gone the next. Part of his rage was in not recognizing the threat right in front of him, the other part was in having to grant a grudging respect to Piascik for his pre-emptive strike by initiating the meeting in the bar – which of course made him even angrier.

And yeah, he'd gotten a few good blows in, but if Piascik felt about Joss the way he said he did – and Reese knew he did by looking at his eyes - the man wouldn't give up. He might be deterred for a while, but he wouldn't give up.

_You can't keep her safe._

He'd barely gotten away after that statement – if he had stayed one minute more, Piascik would have had him. His final desperate blow got him out of the bar, but he'd also implicated Joss – nice move, asshole, he thought.

All in all, a fuck of a day, when a teenage boy and a pampered desk jockey saw right through him.

Stalking into the library, he nodded to Finch and slumped into the old easy chair, legs stretched out, his eyes half closed, seemingly dozing, while being aware of everything around him.

He didn't go to the library to talk to Finch – even if he could talk about it, he couldn't imagine having _that_ conversation with him - but sitting there gave Reese at least some tenuous connection to their mission, helped him keep control so that he wouldn't do something stupid. The sounds of Finch's fingers on the keyboard, his sighs – sometimes of approval, sometimes of exasperation – as he watched his screens and reviewed data, and the ungainly, lurching sounds as he periodically moved around the room kept Reese grounded while he forced himself to review the events of the last several months.

From the moment Reese met Carter, he knew that she was different. It wasn't just that just that she was beautiful – he could see that through a haze of booze – or the way she moved – balancing her weapon and the associated gear on her hips as if they were a part of her - but it was the way she approached him, looking at him straight in the eye. She was scrupulously, amusingly, often infuriatingly honest – even when she betrayed him - and after a lifetime of lies he craved that honesty, even when it included her anger and even her scorn. Over time he'd coax a small smile out of her, then a grin and the day she laughed out loud at something he said, he stood there like an idiot, trying to remember exactly what he said and the way he said it so that she would laugh again.

He quickly went from wanting to have sex with her - what man didn't – to wanting to make love to her, but it wasn't until that ridiculous night at the construction site, when he looked like he had gone a few rounds with the Pillsbury Dough Boy, as he'd held her and looked into her dark eyes, that he _knew_ what it would be like to be with her, knew her passion and knew that if he was able to touch her once, he'd want to touch her forever.

It terrified him.

They'd stood there staring at each other, like two kids at their first dance with Fusco as an unlikely chaperone. Finch's arrival broke the tension and Joss took off, but not before he saw a flash of anger, and something else in her eyes as she practically ran away from him.

Reeae couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop wanting to know if her reaction was just a momentary physical response or something deeper. He spent the night wandering the city, realizing that as dawn approached, he was near her neighborhood.

And so he'd started heading towards her apartment, not knowing what to say to her, trying to come up with some excuse to stop by, when he saw her stumble into the park, obviously upset about something. When it wasn't Taylor or her mother, for a moment he sensed it was about what had happened the night before, but he let her anger –and, alright, his fear – drive their encounter.

He let her go.

And the other guy went from no big deal in February to sitting on her couch in April, from being a JAG to Steven Piascik, from being someone she just had coffee with, to someone who might be much, much more.

Reese chose not to pay attention to what was happening between her and Piascik, because it was easier to think that Joss would never be interested in him - and even easier to _not_ to think about it, if in the remotest possibility that she were. What could he give her – he had nothing, was nothing, could never claim her as his, couldn't even – and his lips quirked at this – take her out for a cup of coffee.

And maybe, just maybe a little part of him was waiting for something – he didn't know what – something that indicated he had crossed some invisible barrier, that he had redeemed himself enough, was worthy enough, was _ready_ to go after a woman like Joss, when it hit him like a ton of bricks – a woman _like_ Joss didn't care about that. She'd seen all sides of him, from the very worst to the very best, but she never changed in how she dealt with him – she'd walked away from him, but she never turned her back on him.

_You can't keep her safe._

And no, he couldn't keep her safe – the thought clenched in his gut, but he sucked it down and faced it. For all his pronouncements and not so subtle attempts to protect her, Joss was a warrior – he once called her Amina* in admiration after a fierce firefight where she saved both his and Fusco's asses – it was part of what made her so attractive to him. He'd told Piascik that Joss would always come to him, but he would do everything in his power to always come to her - he couldn't keep her safe, but he could fight with her and for her.

Reese would be there for her and that was the most important part, no matter what happened between them.

It seemed like days ago, but it was just that afternoon that Taylor mentioned that Joss would be home alone tomorrow. Reese would go to her apartment – he wasn't sure what he would say to her – but he would go, and just be with her.

He closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of Finch's fingers tapping the keyboard long into the night.

TBC

*Amina of Zau Zau was an ancient warrior queen in what is present day Nigeria. A fierce fighter, she commanded all female troops and is also credited with building cities in her queendom.

A/N: In the next chapter, at an elegant luncheon, Joss gets an intriguing offer and discovers that she and Steven have a mutual acquaintance.


	7. Chapter 7: Joss' POV, Part 3

Chapter 7: The Other Guy – Joss' POV, Part 3

A/N: During an elegant luncheon, Joss receives an intriguing offer and discovers that she and Steven have a mutual acquaintance.

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me.

**April**

_There_. Joss paused at the entrance to the park. Clouds had obscured the afternoon sun and the temperature was rapidly dropping. She was shivering, but she knew it wasn't with the cold. For a moment, she thought about turning back, but she squared her shoulders, smoothed her hair and walked into the park, her bare feet silent on the hard packed earth.

**March**

Matthew Shetler's midnight epiphany occurred when he had a heart attack while sweating over a 19 year old pop tart on a houseboat in Seattle. With three ex-wives, ten children and so many grandchildren that he was once famously quoted during a _60 Minutes_ Interview that he didn't know the names of his grandchildren, but he could tell to the penny the opening and closing stock prices of his competitors, the founder and head of global conglomerate Shetler Pharmaceuticals realized as he was being wheeled away, that perhaps there was more to life than making money, crushing his enemies and chasing women.

His trip to the hospital, endless rounds of interviews of his teenaged 'friend' and whispers of a divorce from wife number four - Matthew Shetler was an early Easter basket to the 24 hour news cycle.

He wasn't worried about the dispensation of his wealth to his heirs – he was a billionaire and there was plenty to go around. What he was worried about now was his legacy and he wanted the talents of Steven Piascik to craft that legacy for him – trusts, foundations, endowments, stadiums. Like a jealous lover, he wanted all of Steven's attention, begrudging even the time that the lawyer spent with his daughter, whom the billionaire flew out on his private jet to Seattle on the weekends that Steven had custody. Throw in a week that Joss spent with Fusco in Atlanta, following up on a previously closed case and March and the first half of April was spent as a series of phone calls and texts between Joss and Steven.

When Steven tried to apologize, Joss told him not to – she thought with the ghost of a smile that she was used to late night phone calls from men.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**April**

Cursing herself for going into the precinct that morning, Joss rushed into her apartment to shower and change. Steven was taking her to a luncheon at the former public library next to the park. She hadn't seen him since that night at his apartment and readily agreed when he suggested that he come to her place and they walk the few blocks to the event. The temperature was at least twenty degrees higher than normal for this time of year and Joss relished the opportunity to spend some time outdoors in the sunshine.

As Joss got out of the shower, she could hear Taylor welcoming Steven into the apartment – her son had plans with Reese that day, but Reese had been delayed, Joss knew, completing some cleanup work on the latest number. Joss listened to the soft murmur of their conversation as she got ready, pausing for a moment when she heard John's voice.

Over time, Joss' relationship with Reese had settled back into the usual barbs and flirty innuendos, the events of February seemingly forgotten. Suddenly putting away the pale blue dress she had selected that morning, she pulled a dark red dress out the closet. Finishing her preparations, Joss walked into the living room, giving Steven a hug, "Sorry I'm late – hey, John."

Her living room seemed to have shrunk in size – John and Steven were each powerful in their own way and she sensed that they had been quietly assessing each other, their masculinity filling the space. Appearance wise, they couldn't be more different, Steven's sturdy frame and bright, wavy hair contrasted sharply with John's leanness and short raven locks. Both were dressed in beautifully tailored suits - Steven's tie was perfect, his jacket buttoned up, while John's open collar and jacket hinted at his sleek physicality.

When Steven greeted her and kissed her, she could see John's eyes narrow just slightly, then his face settled back into that smooth, detached mask she was so familiar with. Giving her son and Reese her usual admonition and Taylor a quick kiss, Joss left the apartment with Steven.

As they walked down the stairs, Steven remarked, "Your son and Mr. Reese seem to get on well together."

Joss laughed, "Judging by the way they insult each other, yeah." As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Steven put his arms around her, "I missed you, Jocelyn," he whispered, kissing her deeply.

"It's nice to have you back," Joss said, touching his cheek. As they headed towards the event, Steven explained that the luncheon was the kickoff for a two day symposium on critical thinking. Several speakers would present different scenarios during the meal – the attendees would break off into small groups, responding to each scenario in turn for the rest of the day and evening, then on Sunday they would meet and review their conclusions. One goal was for the attendees to improve their ability to quickly assess a situation, but Steven noted wryly, the fact that this luncheon was going to last long into the afternoon didn't bode well for the symposium.

Joss quirked an eyebrow, smiling "Leave it to lawyers to take a two hour event and turn it into four."

Steven laughed. "Just remember, I know that you used to be one of us, Jocelyn."

As they approached the event site, Joss' experienced eye noted the subtle signs that a dignitary was expected – extra surveillance cameras, construction signs that conveniently blocked off a cross street and banners along the steps directing entrants to a central door. Her first watch commander had referred to it as a 'scarf and scram', where a politician would swoop down to an event for a few minutes, scarfing down a few bites of food, but really looking for publicity, money and ultimately votes. She whispered, "Who's the biggie?"

"My lips are sealed, Jocelyn," Steven said, his hand at the small of her back, guiding her up the steps.

The cavernous old public library had become a labor of love for a rap artist now turned media mogul. Working with the city and local entrepreneurs, the space now contained stores, restaurants, a boutique hotel, and now a small convention center, where the luncheon was being held. Sunlight streamed into the former East Reading Room, its three story-high windows overlooking the park where a kaleidoscope of spring flowers bloomed. The spiral staircases and walkways that used to lead patrons to the upper bookshelves had been restored and the reading alcoves had been turned into small meeting rooms. Wait staff were putting the finishing touches on elegantly appointed tables and a quartet played mellow jazz.

Steven touched her arm, "I need to step away for a moment," he said, nodding to a frantically beckoning staffer.

"No problem," Joss smiled. She made a circuit of the room, admiring the restoration. Taylor had a budding interest in architecture and she made a note to bring him over to the site. As she was about to mount one of the spiral staircases, she heard her name called.

Michelle Hayward moved towards her, a wide smile on her face. Tall and slender, her short blonde cap of curls highlighted her high cheekbones and swan-like neck. She was the kind of woman who expected all eyes to be upon her, and they were – men's eyes widened as she went by, and women's eyes narrowed.

Suddenly frowning, Michelle said in a stage whisper, "Oh, I'm sorry – are you _on duty…_I heard that the Mayor may make an appearance."

Joss smiled politely. The only thing she had in common with Michelle was they had worked at the same law firm and they had a mutual friend in Candace Braithwaite, another former colleague. "Nope, just here for the free food."

"Well, it's nice that the city can afford to expose its employees to an event like this."

"Actually, I was invited by a friend."

"_Really_? Anyone I know?"

"Hello, Michelle." Steven walked over to Joss, his hand briefly touching her sleeve. A look passed between Steven and Michelle, and Joss knew that they had been involved, it had been recent and judging by the slight flush on Michelle's cheeks, she had not ended the relationship.

"Steven…I'm surprised to see you here…I heard you were spending a lot of time in Seattle." Michelle's eyes flickered over Steven and then cast a long appraising look at Joss.

"My firm is one of the sponsors. It's nice to see you, Michelle." Turning to Joss, he said, "We should sit down."

They both nodded to Michelle and as they walked away, Steven said in a low voice, "We dat-," he grimaced, "- I slept with her, last year. It was a mistake."

"You don't owe me an explanation, Steven."

He stopped walking, facing her. "No, but I want you to understand…she did me a favor. After I told her that we wouldn't be seeing each other anymore, I sat down and made a list of qualities I wanted in a person. Six weeks later, you walked into my life."

Joss opened her mouth to speak, when a commotion at the entrance caught their attention. The Mayor swept in, accompanied by one of the new bright lights on the political spectrum, a Super Bowl MVP rumored to be seeking a US Senate seat. Moving with grace and determination, his voice ringing across the room, the former athlete took command, directing everyone to their seats and then presenting a fascinating scenario. The symposium was underway.

True to the scarf and scram theory, the Mayor and the future Senator left after twenty minutes and while the following speakers had a tough act to the follow, the scenarios were challenging, each one catching Joss' attention as the luncheon progressed. Their luncheon companions were engaging, especially Russell Jones, a hawk-faced, white haired man, whose comments between speakers were insightful, if sharp-edged. Joss challenged him on several of his statements and during the long break between the main courses and dessert, Jones fired several questions at her. After several minutes of a spirited debate, Joss realized that Jones' questions had a definite goal and direction – he was assessing her.

She held up her hand before Jones could ask his next question. "Why do I feel like I'm being interviewed, Mr. Jones?"

Jones' eyes bored into hers. "Because you _are_, – and you're passing with flying colors." He outlined a position on his corporate security team and Joss tried not to react to the salary mentioned. "I don't like to fool around with long drawn out processes, Ms. Carter – if you're interested call me. I'll introduce you to the team and we can talk specifics." Almost on cue, a chime called everyone back to the tables and dessert was served. Steven took his seat across from hers, and while his eyes met Joss', his expression was calm and unreadable.

After lunch, there was an hour break before the group sessions started. Joss held her tongue until she and Steven were well out of sight of the library. "Don't ever do that again, Steven."

"Jocelyn, Russell Jones chose to speak to you on his own."

Her heels were pounding the pavement so hard, she thought they'd shatter. "And you had nothing with the seating arrangements? Does he have a list of my credentials? Does he know we've been seeing each other?"

"The only thing I did was facilitate your being at that table. There were three other people sitting with us, Jocelyn, that he could have approached –their credentials were clearly listed on the attendee list and you can bet that they were well aware that Jones has been looking for additions to his team. All Jones knew was that you were a late addition to the luncheon. He's not a friend of mine and if you recall, you and I didn't sit next to each other."

"You tried to manipulate me, Steven."

"I thought –"

"Steven, I'm sure you can come up with a dozen reasons why you did what you did." They were standing in front of her apartment building. "You were wrong."

Steven studied her for a long moment, and then he nodded, similar to the first night they met. "You would think that after spending six weeks at the beck and call of a megalomaniac, I'd know better." He raised his hand as if he was going to touch her, then pulled it back. "I apologize, Jocelyn."

Joss was silent as they entered her apartment. She sat down on the couch, indicating that Steven sit down next to her. Taking a deep breath, she looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not interested, Steven. I told you, I like being a cop."

Steven had that challenging gleam in his eyes again. "Are you going to tell me that Jones' offer wasn't intriguing? I'm sure the salary was a lot more than what you're making now."

Joss looked down on the coffee table, gathering her thoughts – Jones had mentioned a salary almost 50% more than what she was making now, but she knew the job wasn't for her – sitting in an office all day would make her crazy. "I make my own decisions, Steven, and it's not always about money. If it was, you'd be sitting on a beach somewhere, sucking down frozen daiquiris."

She picked up a flyer from Taylor's favorite pizza place, smiling softly at the scrawl, 'Mom, pizza 4 3 2nite!' Tilting her head, she challenged him back, "You knew I was a cop when we met. Why did you ask me out?"

"You're beautiful and the way you moved as you walked through the store -," he shook his head, smiling, "– the fact that you were a cop meant you were strong, a hard worker and that you didn't put up with any crap - " he laughed suddenly, ruefully, " - today proves it."

Pulling the flyer out of her hands, Steven took both of them in his. "I've had the pretty little girls, Jocelyn, I was married to one. I want a strong beautiful woman. I want you." He kissed her, whispering, "Come away with me next weekend. No late night phone calls, no crazy billionaires - just us," he put his arms around her, kissing her throat. "I want to wake up with you, Jocelyn."

Joss sighed. It had been a long time since she'd woken up in a man's arms. If she went away with Steven, away from everything and everyone…kissing him, she murmured, "I'd have to make a few arrangements."

Steven's fingers traced the neckline of her dress, his voice thick with desire. "Understood. Call me when you know." Clearing his throat, he stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I need to get back."

As Joss walked him to the door, Steven suddenly said, "You know, you look incredible in red. You should wear it more often."

Joss laughed. "Come on, you've seen me in red before."

"No – pale yellow, light blue, gray. You always look great, but this color…wow." Smiling, he touched her sleeve and left.

Minutes later, Taylor bounded into the apartment, "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, yourself. How was your afternoon?"

"_Physical_ – 'kay that we have pizza tonight?"

"Hmmmm…yeah, sure… John isn't with you?"

Taylor walked into the kitchen, "Nope, he had something to do. I'm going to call now – starving."

"Okay," Joss smoothed the sleeve on her dress, "I'm going to change."

A/N: A few years ago, my former boss invited me to lunch at his new place of employment. It wasn't until I got there that he revealed lunch was with him _and_ his VP – a month later I had a new job.

Next: John takes Taylor's suggestion (from way back in chapter 3) and pays Joss a visit while she is alone at her apartment.


	8. Chapter 8: Like Water for Chocolate

Chapter 8: Like Water for Chocolate

A/N: John takes Taylor's suggestion and pays Joss a visit while she is home alone.

The usual disclaimers: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

She wrenched her front door open, "What's wrong?"

"Hello to you, too, Detective," Reese held up two bags. "I brought lunch."

Joss' eyes widened. "You went to Southern Comfort _and_ Death by Chocolate – they're both heart attacks on a plate, but their food is _sooo_ good!" She reached up to take the bags, but Reese playfully held them out of her grasp.

"Are you going to invite me in?"

Joss gave him one of her patented glares. "Can't I just give you a tip?" Smiling, she stepped back and let him into the apartment.

John looked around the living room. He expected to see piles of receipts, a smoking laptop and crumpled papers, but the space was pristine as usual. "I thought you were doing your taxes today."

Joss laughed from the kitchen, "Taylor doesn't know that I finally smartened up and have them done by an accountant. I get a day to myself. He doesn't ask and I don't tell." She emerged cradling plates, napkins, silverware and a couple of beers, "Let's eat out here."

They spread everything out on the coffee table, falling on the food like they hadn't eaten in days. The potent combination of fat, sugar and alcohol did their magic and the conversation was easy, as though they did this every Sunday. They talked sports and politics and favorite bad movies. Joss admitted to a secret addiction to first person shooter games – using her teenage son as her cover - and Reese revealed that he spent more than one snowy winter afternoon transfixed by the SyFy Channel's monster mashup marathons. The only numbers were three pointers, ranking top quarterbacks and high scores.

John let his eyes flow over her. It was an unseasonably warm April day. Joss had on a dark red sleeveless top and black cropped pants, her hair was loose and she was barefoot. Everything about her seemed heightened - her dimples were deeper, her smile was wider, her laugh deeper and fuller. She glowed in the afternoon sun. At one point he caught her arm when they both decided they wanted the last piece of chocolate cake. Touching her skin, incredibly soft and smooth, caused a spike of desire in him so strong that he snatched his hand back as though it had been burned, watching her crow in triumph as she claimed her prize.

Finally Joss leaned back against the couch cushions and groaned, "Whoever invented elastic was an evil genius. I would have stopped eating a long time ago if I had to" she snapped her waistband "button this."

Reese lifted the hem of his polo shirt. He'd unbuttoned the waistband of his jeans over an hour ago when Joss went back into the kitchen for more beers, "No you wouldn't."

She laughed out loud. Their eyes met, held. In the silence, Reese knew that though they had chatted and flirted and jibed and debated and even screamed at each other since they met, this silence said more than all those thousands of words combined – this silence said everything.

No more words, no more waiting, no more holding back.

Reese ran his fingers down her sleek bare arms, pulling her close. He took her face in his hands and traced her eyebrows, her cheeks, her jawline, her beautiful, beautiful mouth. Joss was trembling, but she didn't pull away. As he gently brushed his lips against hers, Joss took a sharp intake of breath, then her hands slowly slid up his chest and when he bent to kiss her again, her lips met his.

Kissing Jocelyn Carter was unlike kissing anyone else – Reese felt the lust of a man who wanted to fuck her until she couldn't walk, the awe of a teenager who couldn't believe this was actually happening and the tenderness of a longtime lover who simply wanted to hold her in his arms. Sweet, slow kisses turned into fiery, passionate ones and their bodies twined together on the couch, straining to join together, their hips moving in an ancient rhythm.

Not here, he thought, and he stood, pulling her to her feet, ready to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the bedroom, not just to make love to her, but to claim her as his. She leaned against him for a moment, but then she pushed him gently back, with a smile that didn't reach her dark eyes, "We should stop before we get too carried away."

Reese felt as though he was drowning as the words slowly entered his consciousness. Incredulously, he asked, "_Is_ that what you think is happening here, Joss?" Joss tried to step back, but he grabbed her arms, stopping her. He was aware that he was holding her too tightly, that he would leave bruises on her soft skin, but he couldn't, wouldn't release her, not now.

Her eyes flashed, challenging him. "Isn't it? Two healthy adults, good food, cheap booze…I don't want…us… to do something we'll regret, just because we want each other today."

They both started at the knock on the door, "Who is it," Joss called out.

It was Steven Piascik.

Reese couldn't speak. His eyes bored into hers, imploring her, pleading with her to send Piascik away.

She pressed her hands again against his chest. "John." Her voice was low, but firm.

He stepped away from her. She smoothed her hair and straightened her top. As she walked toward the front door, Reese said, his voice low and halting as if his tongue had been dragged over gravel, "I've wanted you…from the moment… I saw you...I want you … so much… it scares me."

Joss paused, lowering her head for a moment, and Reese thought she might stop, but then she went to the front door.

Piascik breezed in. "I know we didn't have any plans, but- "his eyes flickered over the remnants of lunch on the coffee table and then he gave Reese a long challenging gaze.

As Reese met Piascik's eyes with his own penetrating stare, he saw Joss' head turn slowly between the two of them. Her fists clenched and Reese knew with a sickening clarity that Joss realized they had spoken about her. John knew what she went through on a daily basis - the speculation, the gossip, the bets about her from the men at the precinct – so when she turned to him he expected and deserved her anger and hurt, but it was her coldness that stabbed him in the heart, her voice even and impersonal as though the afternoon had never happened, as if she had never kissed him, never held him in her arms. "Thanks for lunch. We'll talk - tomorrow."

Reese stared at her for a long moment, then he nodded, "Of course, Detective." He walked past her to the front door.

Piascik smiled, his eyes glinting with a thinly disguised triumph, "Nice to see you again, Mr. Reese."

As Joss closed the door, Reese saw the other guy lean in to kiss her.

A/N: In the next chapter, Joss makes her decision.


	9. Chapter 9: Joss' POV, Part 4

Chapter 9: The Other Guy: Joss' POV, Part 4

A/N: Joss makes her decision

The usual disclaimers: Nothing you recognize belongs to me

**April**

Sunday morning arrived clear and warm. Taylor took off early for his day with his friend Jake – they were planting at St. Sebastian's in the morning, then to the library in the afternoon where Joss suspected they would spend more time looking at girls than studying, but they would actually get some work done. Jake's mother Wendy had given Taylor an open invitation for dinner at their house, so Joss didn't expect her son home until later that evening.

Joss had the whole day to herself.

She took a long luxurious bath, anointing her body with rich, creamy lotion. She gave herself a pedicure and painted her toe nails. She cleaned out her closet, putting away most of her winter clothes. It was so warm that she put on a dark red sleeveless top and black capris. Opening the windows, she stretched out on the couch, flipping through a pile of trashy tabloids that her mother had dropped off at her house, enjoying the light breeze on her bare feet and calves.

As noon approached, her stomach growled – she went into the kitchen, hoping that the refrigerator fairies had left something delicious inside - but there was only the remains of last night's pizza. She was about to put it in the microwave, when someone knocked on her door.

It was Reese. And he brought lunch.

She had never seen him dressed like this before in a slate blue polo shirt, jeans and sneakers, the silvery sheen of the shirt highlighting his gray eyes. The food was fantastic, the beers were ice cold and she couldn't remember laughing this much in a very long time. As they ate and talked, she studied him – the way his throat constricted as he drank his beer, how his biceps flexed as he gestured, the strong curves of his thigh muscles when he crossed his left ankle over his right knee – John Reese was a beautiful man, not just in the way he looked, but in the way he moved. She was always astonished at how easily he moved when he fought – it should have been no surprise to see that ease here on her couch but she was surprised – and fascinated.

So when he ran his hands down her arms, she didn't pull away, transfixed by his long graceful fingers. When he traced those fingers across her face, she shivered, but she didn't tell him to stop. When his lips lightly touched hers, she sucked in a breath, but it was in desire, not rejection.

And when he bent to kiss her again, her lips met his.

The something inside her coursed through her body and she felt like she would die if she didn't envelop this man in her arms, feel his strong hard frame against hers. Their lips claimed each other over and over and as the kisses grew richer and deeper, they sank back against the couch, bodies pressed together, their need becoming stronger and stronger.

Reese stood up and pulled her to her feet. Joss leaned against him, her feelings for Reese warring with the thoughts swirling in her head. It was all so easy, she thought, _too_ easy to go from cool, calm, collected Jocelyn Carter to rolling around on the couch like some lovesick high school cheerleader making out with the star quarterback. And if I make love with him, if I give myself to him…

_I don't want to be like them. _

I want him, I need him.

_I can't be like them._

I want to hold him, want to wake up with his arms around me.

_I won't be like them._

I'll be lost.

Joss pushed him back. "We should stop before we get too carried away."

John looked at her as though she'd gone insane. "_Is_ that what you think is happening here, Joss?" She tried to step away, but Reese grabbed her arms, his fingers digging into her skin. Good, she thought, get mad, I can deal with that.

"Isn't it? Two healthy adults, good food, cheap booze…I don't want…," she caught herself in time, "us… to do something we'll regret, just because we want each other today."

They both started at the knock on the door, "Who is it," Joss called out.

It was Steven.

His eyes, those gorgeous eyes were telling her to send Steven away…

Joss pressed her hands again against Reese's chest, "John."

Reese stepped away from her. Joss smoothed her hair and straightened her top. As she walked toward the front door, Reese said so soft and low she could barely hear him, "I've wanted you…from the moment… I saw you...I want you… so much… it scares me."

I can't, she thought, I _can't_.

She let Steven in.

"I know we didn't have any plans, but-"

Steven's and Reese's eyes locked on each other, and in that brief, fleeting exchange, Joss realized that they had spoken about her. Boys and their toys – and I'm the toy. That's all this is to him, she thought, a game – he wants me only because someone else does, and I fell for it. She tamped down her anger and hurt, forcing herself to be calm as though the afternoon had never happened, as if he'd never held her in his arms, never kissed her, never said – _STOP_, she told herself.

Her voice was cool and impersonal. "Thanks for lunch. We'll talk - tomorrow."

Reese stared at her for a long moment, then he nodded, "Of course, Detective." He walked past her to the front door.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Reese," Steven said as John walked out the door.

As Joss closed the door, Steven leaned in to kiss her, but Joss stepped back, holding up her hands to ward him off. "Steven…please." Her voice softened. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to stop by on my way home, see if you might be free for dinner." He looked at her closely, "Are you alright, Jocelyn?"

"I'm fine." Joss turned away for a moment, blinking away the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. The sun had gone behind the clouds and her apartment was dark and cool. "It's cold in here." She crossed the room to close the windows, quailing at the sight of a twisted throw and pillows on the floor next to the couch. As she shut the windows and fiddled with the blinds, she thought, I'm kissing one man and seeing another – who's the one playing games, Jocelyn? "Tell me about the symposium."

"It was like most symposiums, Jocelyn. The results will be put in a nice binder that will sit on a dusty bookshelf somewhere. Dinner? We could call your son and have him join us."

She re-crossed the room, standing in front of him. "I don't think so, Steven. It's been a long weekend for everyone." As she gazed at him, she knew what she had to do. "Steven –"

He took her hands in his, "Jocelyn, you're tired and upset and I know you're still angry with me about what happened yesterday. Look, we don't have to go away next weekend. When you're ready –"

Joss slowly took her hands away, looking straight into Steven's eyes. "Steven, I am so sorry. I can't see you anymore."

Steven frowned at her, disbelief in his hazel eyes. "You can't see me - Jocelyn – I don't understand. When you sent him away, I thought –" he took her hands again. "Help me understand – tell me what I can do to change your mind."

Joss shook her head. "Steven, you're a good man and I've enjoyed spending time with you, but I don't care for you the way you should be cared for. You deserve more than that."

Steven's smile was sad, sardonic. "So in other words, 'it's not you, Steven, it's me.' And if I told you that I was willing to wait, that I'd care for you and love you until you felt the same way about me?"

She gave him a sad smile back. "That's not going to happen, Steven."

Steven released her hands, turning his back on her to look at the remains of lunch on the coffee table. "But it _is_ him, isn't it? It's always been him, even from the first time I met you." He turned suddenly and Joss saw his tightly controlled anger coiled just below the surface. "He's _not_ the man for you, Jocelyn, believe me. He's a –" a bright flush covered his face and neck "-he'll only be able to offer you the shadows. You told me that I deserve more. Don't _you_ deserve more than that?"

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, his voice a whisper, "I want to give you the world, Jocelyn. I want to keep you safe."

Joss took his face in her hands, kissing him softly. "I'm _not_ meant to be safe, Steven." Her career, the work she did with the numbers, her feelings for John Reese - Joss knew that she could talk to him until the end of time and he would never understand.

They stepped apart. Steven walked to the front door. As he opened it, he said, "I think, I _know_ you're making a mistake, Jocelyn. If you need me…" he walked out of her apartment, closing the door behind him.

Silence. She was alone again. Well, Joss thought, I'm good at that. I've got my son and my work, my family and my friends. I don't need anything else in my life. I'm fine -

Her legs went out from under her and she sank to the floor, a dry sob ripped from her throat as a flurry of emotions pummeled her, constricting her chest and throat until she could barely breathe. Desire, anger, need, loss and another emotion buried so deep inside her, so far at the edge of her thoughts, she knew it would tear her apart if she named it.

_But it _is_ him, isn't it? It's always been him, even from the first time I met you._

I'm not meant to be safe – I'm Jocelyn Carter, I dived in the quarry when all the other kids wouldn't, I got married the day after graduation when everyone told us to wait, I marched into battle shoulder to shoulder with my fellow soldiers, I survived the loss of my husband when I thought it would kill me, I raised a child alone when there were half a dozen guys who wanted to marry me, I went to law school when everyone told me I couldn't do it, I took on the mob and HR and anyone who would stand in my way – I've never kept my mind or my body or my spirit safe - _why_ did I think I could keep my heart safe – why?

Is _that what you think is happening here, Joss?_

John Reese just showed up at her door - without the phone calls, without the suit, without some conspiracy or plot to make her crazy - just showed up to be with her…

_He'll only be able to offer you the shadows._

She knows that John will break her heart, that one cold night he'll disappear and she'll search hospitals and morgues and vacant lots, that she'll never be able to find his body, that she'll never be able to mourn him properly.

_I've wanted you…from the moment… I saw you...I want you… so much… it scares me._

She also knows that if she doesn't go after him right now, she will regret it for the rest of her life.

She ran out of the apartment.

A/N: Next: Barefoot in the Park


	10. Chapter 10: Barefoot in the Park

Chapter 10: Barefoot in the Park

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me

John Reese's long legs could usually carry him quickly anywhere he wanted to go, but this afternoon, it was like he was walking in mud, his steps slow and uncoordinated. He was able to keep his mind blank until he reached the park, then something drew him in - he didn't know what, but he needed to sit down and the park seemed like the safest option.

The sunny afternoon had turned cloudy and cool, and a steady stream of people were leaving the park as he entered. Reese found a bench in the far corner and sat down heavily on it, his head in his hands. He took several deep breaths, trying to tamp down the raging feelings of loss, anger and desire.

Ok, asshole, he told himself, you vowed you'd be there for her no matter what happened between the two of you - now you get to prove it. Now you get to watch her with the other guy. Now you get to be the JAG, on her couch one minute, out on the sidewalk the next.

Now you're the one who got _that_ close – his smug jibe at Piascik came back to haunt Reese – before Joss went to _him_.

But how could he, after having kissed her lush lips, touched her beautiful brown skin, felt her shapely body next to his, how could he after having asked her with his eyes not to let Piascik in, how could he after he finally admitted to her – _FUCK _-

He'd been tortured for hours, held prisoner for weeks and wouldn't say a word, yet with Joss he did things, felt things, _said_ things that he'd never had to anyone else.

And now that he had…Reese wouldn't allow himself to think about it anymore. He listened to the sounds around him – the leaves rustling in the trees, the voices of the people leaving the park, the birds twittering - cataloging each noise as he slowed his breath and calmed his heartbeat, telling himself that in a few minutes he'd head to the library, but he just sat there, unable to move.

It was the absence of noise that alerted him to a presence before him. He opened his eyes to a pair of bare brown feet.

"I'm not going to see him anymore."

Reese sat up, a million barbs dying on his lips when he saw her face – tired, teary-eyed, _beautiful_.

He shifted to the right, making room for her on the bench. Angling his body towards hers, he lifted her legs, placing her feet on top of his sneakers. The park was almost deserted and the sun, capricious as always, had decided to peek out again.

Joss looked past him, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "I've always tried to be so careful. I never wanted to be one of those people who gets swept away by…I can't even say it," Joss laughs ruefully, meeting his eyes, "And here I just ran after you - barefoot."

He touched her cheek, "What do you want to do, Joss?"

The sun had fully emerged along with a cold clear wind, driving the last few brave souls out of the park, except Joss and John. Joss begins to tremble, but they both know it isn't because of the rapidly falling temperature, "I…I want to try."

He leans in to kiss her, but she gently pushes him back, "What if we hurt each other?"

Reese knows what she is really asking, "We _will_ hurt each other, Joss, but we'll keep trying."

She looked at him, as though seeing him for the first time. Her fingers trace his graying temples, his cheeks, his jaw and finally his lips. She kisses him, holding him tightly, and slowly she stops trembling, "Would you like to come back to the apartment? Taylor will be home soon, but we can still sit and talk."

"I'd love to."

"Good, because I just realized I've forgotten my keys."

"What am I going to do with you, Joss Carter?"

"Everything."

He laughs, sweeps her into his arms and carries her towards the apartment.

A/N: Two more chapters to go.

.


	11. Ch 11:Lost in Translation:the Sequel

Chapter 11: Lost in Translation: The Sequel

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me.

"_Watch it_!" Taylor yanked Jake back by his collar. "You almost got taken out by that truck. You need to pay attention to what's around you, instead of," he taps the screen, "that."

Jake laughs, his fingers typing rapidly, "That's why we're the perfect combo, bro – I text, you watch."

Taylor snorts as he looks across the street. He sees a tall man carrying a woman out of the park. His heart stops as he realizes it's John, carrying his mom. He starts to move forward, wondering if she's hurt, but then he sees her laughing.

She's also barefoot.

Jake keeps texting, oblivious. "Hey, my mom's says she just got dinner. You wanna come with?"

Taylor shrugs, "I could eat."

Translation: Hell. Yeah. It. Worked.

A/N: I had to give Taylor his due.

One more chapter to go. Joss finally lets that something inside her soar (and the rating will rise accordingly) during an evening with Reese.


	12. Chapter 12: The Something Inside

Chapter 12: The Something Inside

A/N: Joss finally lets the something inside her soar during an evening with Reese.

Thank you for your patience and the wonderful reviews and personal messages about this story! I am deeply humbled.

The usual disclaimers: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

"You sure you want to do this, Joss?"

"Yes…as long as we can keep this between the two of us, ok?"

"Well, I can understand why _you'd_ like to keep this quiet, Detective. Why should I?"

Joss gives him a smile so incredibly sensual and seductive that Reese fumbles with his lock picking tools. Quickly recovering, but not before he sees the glint in her eyes letting him know that she caught his little bobble, Reese unlocks the door to her apartment.

Joss reaches past him, opens the door. She turns and extends her hand to Reese, her face suddenly soft and vulnerable. As they step across the threshold, they stand there for a moment, gazing into the living room – other than the remnants of lunch, some pillows and a throw on the floor, there is no hint of what happened today, no sense that everything has changed.

Reese takes his free hand and cups her cheek. Joss closes her eyes and Reese takes her in his arms – they won't be together tonight, he knows, but they will be together soon.

That was twelve days ago.

After a brief return to real April weather that Sunday afternoon, the warm spell returned with a vengeance the next day, and Joss had a corresponding increase in non-premeditated homicides. A husband and wife organizing their garage, two master gardeners debating pruning techniques, a fight over a parking space at a yard sale – it was as though the entire city had suddenly shifted to the short tempers and petty feuds of August - or as Fusco cracked, taken spring cleaning to an entirely new level. The killings were city wide, including precincts that had not seen a murder in decades, so all homicide detectives were pressed into service, even those on the Task Force. Joss was busy almost round the clock as the murders multiplied like crab grass.

The temperatures soared into the nineties, humid with thunderstorms and high winds causing power outages across the tri-state area. Stores rushed to stock air conditioners and the beaches, opening early, reached capacity and had to turn people away. The media tried to come up with the perfect name for the weather event and a contest to see if you could fry an egg on the sidewalk drew hundreds of contestants.

There were however, no numbers.

"A premeditated _Death Takes a Holiday*_, Mr. Reese," Finch mused. "Go do whatever it is you do. I'll call you if anything changes."

Reese went through his entire arsenal, cleaning and polishing every item, arranging and putting them in precise order.

He ordered two new suits.

He reviewed technical journals and websites for updates in weaponry and surveillance tools.

He impersonated an aviation technician and took a helicopter for an early dawn flight around the city, watching the heat shimmer off the water as the sun rose.

He asked Finch to create a persona in case Joss's ex-suitor tried to inquire about him.

He spent a scorching afternoon playing basketball with Taylor, the sweat streaming off their bodies – both wanting Joss there watching them, applauding and chastising them as they tried to outdo each other on the court.

He cataloged new surveillance cameras and new escape routes.

He touched himself more than he believed possible since he was a teenager hunched over a stack of well-worn girlie magazines. He didn't go blind, but his head swam, his hands shook and his cock ached at the thought of making love to Joss, his fantasies turning into vivid scenarios that left him spent and gasping.

He even read one of the books Finch had given him when he was recuperating after getting shot by Snow's partner. The book was incredibly boring, but it was worth seeing the startled expression on Finch's face when Reese's casual comments let the other man know that he had actually read it.

He started slipping into Joss' apartment on the third day, at first for a few minutes, then longer and longer each day, watering her plants, washing her dishes, the little chores an indication of how rushed Joss has been. On the fifth day, he started putting salads and cold soups, muffins and fruit in her refrigerator. On the tenth day, he went into her bedroom and stretched out on her bed, his fingers curling around a strand of her hair clinging to her pillow. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of her room, the curtains billowing in the warm breeze, the ticking of her old hand cranked alarm clock, the rustle of her bathrobe as it swung on a loose hook.

He wanted her, needed her, more importantly he missed her.

As the temperatures began to cool on the eleventh day, the red mist of anger faded from the city's eyes and the murders abruptly stopped. Bookies did a booming business taking bets on when a murder would occur in the next twenty four hours, but as the clocks ticked and no killings occurred, everyone, even the bookies, breathed a sigh of relief.

On the afternoon of the twelfth day, Reese was sitting in the library when Joss texted him. She's meeting a friend for dinner, then is off duty until Monday.

"Prince Sirki is still at the villa, Finch?" Reese asked, grabbing his jacket, using the name that Death, who assumes human form in the film, takes as he falls in love with a mortal woman.

Finch turned from his screens. "Yes, Mr. Reese, it appears he is still enjoying the attentions of the one woman who knows what he is, but isn't afraid of him."

Their eyes meet. Reese nods. "Have a good evening, Harold."

"You too, John. I'll only call you if it's an emergency."

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The stifling heat didn't bother Joss. While the rest of the city sweated and cursed through the heat wave, Joss handled the crushing workload with her usual efficiency, her muscles loose and languid. Joss loved the sun on her skin, the warm air riffling her hair, even the little prickles of sweat trickling between her breasts as she worked crime scenes.

She kept bottles of lotion in the refrigerator, relishing the feel of the cold creaminess on her skin. She left the windows open in her bedroom as she slept for the few hours she was home, her naked body stretched out on a diagonal across her bed, eschewing the air conditioner. She closed her eyes during her all too brief conversations with John Reese, imagining he was lying in the dark beside her.

Every night, when she came home, she wondered what new evidence she would find of his presence in her apartment. At first, the little tasks that she didn't have time to complete, then takeout food, then enough groceries for a week – or at least for a few days, with her bottomless pit teenager.

A clean apartment and a fully stocked refrigerator – foreplay, John Reese style, she thought smiling, was much more erotic than any romantic dinner or sweet words he could have whispered in her ears.

One evening she found a short gray hair on her pillow. Her dreams that night were passionate and intense and she almost called Reese, almost went to his apartment.

Wait, she told herself, wait, the right time will come.

Then everything started to fall into place.

Taylor volunteers to help her mother prepare for a congregation-wide yard sale at her church. He gives her a knowing look as he tells her that he will go straight from school to her mother's house Friday afternoon and he won't be home until Saturday evening.

After catching lunch from a sidewalk cart, Joss walks by a little boutique and sees the sales clerk putting a beautiful red dress on a mannequin. The dress is simple, perfect. For once she doesn't question the cost, walking out ten minutes later with the dress in a garment bag over her arm.

The temperatures start to cool on Thursday and the murders suddenly subsided.

The weather Friday is fantastic, in the eighties with no humidity.

Her union rep tells her that afternoon she has comp time she has to use up this month or she will lose it. She's off duty until Monday.

She texts John, tells him that she's meeting a friend for drinks and dinner, then she is free.

That evening, she takes the new dress out of the closet, realizing she is wearing it for herself, as much as for John. As she looks at herself in her full-length mirror, she sees not a mother, not a cop, but a woman, a woman who will be with her lover, soon.

She pins her hair up in a loose chignon, slips on a pair of black strappy sandals, then pulls a long strand of freshwater pearls from her jewelry box. Each pearl has been dyed a different color – black, forest green, navy blue, dark amber, wine – shimmering softly as she winds the necklace around her neck, swinging it around so that it trails down her back. The restaurant is just a few blocks from her apartment, so she decides to walk.

As she approaches the restaurant, a spring fair is in full swing. Streets have been closed off around the park and the old library and thousands of people are shopping, eating and milling about in the perfect evening weather. A bandstand is being set up for a concert later that evening and magicians, jugglers and performance artists are entertaining the crowds.

Candace Braithwaite waves to her from a table by the restaurant windows. Barely five feet tall, she bustles with that frenetic energy unique to petite women, practically jumping up and down as she opens her arms to give Joss a big hug. The two women have a standing monthly dinner date, but haven't been able to connect for months.

"You look wonderful…not that you don't always, but something's different," Candace said, her soft accent indicating an early childhood growing up in the Caribbean. "Tell me that you have fallen in love."

"Candace, since you met Asher, you think everyone is falling in love." Joss teased.

"It doesn't mean it's not true," her friend shot back. "If you're not in love, you're definitely in lust, my Jocelyn – you're glowing. Perhaps the man Michelle saw you with at the luncheon?" The shrewd dark eyes that had skewered witnesses in court now focused on Joss. "No…I think someone else. You'll tell me eventually – we may be old ladies in a nursing home by then, but you'll tell me."

"_Sexy_ old ladies, Candace," Joss smiled.

"Right – those old gentlemen won't know what hit them,"

After dinner, Joss walks her friend to the subway stop. They hug and kiss and Joss promises to visit Candace and Asher at Asher's home in Connecticut soon.

The something inside Joss senses a change in the air. Smiling softly, she starts to walk home.

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After leaving the library, Reese went to his apartment to shower, shave and change. He rode the Ducati through the heavy Friday night traffic, parking with his usual caution in a garage several blocks away from Joss' building. He could have waited for Joss at her apartment, but he wanted to see her, wanted to be with her as soon as she was free. Reese walked slowly through the fair, blessing the extra anonymity the thousands of people offered as he neared the restaurant.

He saw her first from the back. She had on a dark red dress made out of some silky material – her only jewelry was an incredibly long strand of multicolored freshwater pearls that swirled around her neck several times, then trailed down her spine, anchored by a long tassel that nestled in the small of her back.

Reese moved down the street, finding a spot between two vendor's stalls where he could watch Joss unobserved.

She was mesmerizing.

Her hair was up and her neck and shoulders were exposed; the upper curves of her full breasts rose and fell as she laughed; when she crossed her legs, the hem of the skirt fell back and he saw that the underside of the dress was a brighter red that shimmered against her taut thighs. Her slim calf flexed as she rotated her right ankle, and when her friend Candace said something that made her explode in laughter, she threw her head back, eyes closed in delight.

As she adjusted a narrow strap that had fallen off her shoulder, Reese somehow recalled the style she wore referred to as a slip dress, which he assumed meant it resembled a slip, but all he could really think about was slipping it off her body, watching it drift over her breasts, ghost down her hips and pool around her ankles, before he pulled her into his arms.

He watched as Joss and her friend Candace left the restaurant, following them as the two women walked together for a while, until they reached the subway stop, then her friend hugged Joss and she left.

Joss turned, her eyes searching the crowd. Smiling softly, she started walking in the direction of her apartment.

Reese followed her.

She wove her way through the crowds, the strand of pearls mimicking the sway of her hips as she walked. At one point, Joss bought a small container of strawberries, her sharp white teeth attacking the plump fruit in precise, even bites. A spurt of juice fell on her chest – Reese stifled a groan as she wiped off the juice with her fingers and then held her fingertips to her lips, her eyes closed.

He was so intent in watching her, he didn't change his position when a vendor suddenly moved a display stand.

Her eyes opened and she saw him.

Heedless of the danger, heedless of everything, he started walking towards her.

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He looked incredible, Joss, thought, simply incredible.

Reese was dressed in his customary button down shirt and dark pants, but tonight the shirt was sky blue, the rolled up sleeves exposing his strong forearms. The sun had kissed his skin, highlighting his high cheekbones - she grew giddy with the thought of seeing where else the sun had touched his body, his wide shoulders, his muscular back – she saw her hands drifting down his broad chest, over his taut stomach, tracing the line where the skin grew pale again, then daring to go lower.

The something inside her was humming, purring like a cat whose ears were being scratched.

The band begins to tune its instruments and the crowds start surging towards the bandstand, buffeting her as she stood there, transfixed by his graceful movements, his long strides as he came towards her.

He stood close to her, not speaking, not touching her.

"Let's go home," she whispered.

His eyes blazed at her, at first full of desire and need, then something deeper, something indescribable. He grazed the back of her hand with his fingertips.

They begin walking against the crowd, walking towards the shadows.

They cross the street. Reese takes her in his arms and Joss puts her head on his chest. Standing in the darkness with Reese, she looks across the street, at the bright lights, the sounds of the fair, the thousands of people. Raising her head, she takes Reese's face in her hands and kisses him, at first gently, then her lips became hot and demanding. His hands run up her bare back, fingers pulling the pins out of her hair, cradling her head as they melt into each other.

Reese's lips trace across her jaw, down her throat and along her shoulder, drawing her dress strap aside with his teeth. She gasps when his tongue licks the exact spot where juice from a strawberry touched her chest. Grabbing his hand, she begins walking quickly, almost running to her apartment.

The streets were empty, the only noise the sound of Joss' heels clicking along the sidewalk. They hurry up the stairs to her building, barely getting the door to her apartment closed before Reese lifts her up in his arms and carries her to the bedroom.

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Joss' bedroom was simple, consisting of her bed, a gliding rocker, a small nightstand and a large mirror leaning against a wall. The windows are open and light from a lamp on the nightstand illuminates the room. The bed is already turned down, red sheets glowing in the soft light.

Reese sets her down on the bed, bending down and removing her shoes. Joss swings her legs up and on the bed, kneeling on the mattress. She looks like a classic Hollywood pin-up, her hair wild around her head, lips stained red with the juice from the strawberries, the straps on her dress lying across her arms. He watches as she draws the top of her dress down, exposing her full breasts. Joss pulled the strand of pearls around, slowly rubbing it back and forth over her dark brown nipples. Reese groaned as he watched them harden before his eyes. Leaning back, she slips out of the rest of her dress and her panties, then lies back along the sheets, wearing only the pearls, watching him undress.

When he is naked, she opens her arms to him.

He lies next to her and for long moments she runs her hands over his torso, while their mouths meet. When her hands try to go lower, Reese pushes her back, raising her hands over her head with one hand, while his other hand cups her breast. His long fingers begin drawing circles on her breast, coming close to her hard nipple, but not touching it. Joss' eyes close and she lets her arms fall back, her breath quickening. Reese releases her hands, bringing his hand down to her other breast, where it begins the same circling, coming so close, but then circling away.

His tongue replaces his fingers, while his thumbs and forefingers slide along her glistening mound. He anoints her nipples with the elixir from her essence and then finally tastes them, taking them deeply into his mouth, his lips and tongue claiming, then releasing them over and over, while her body arches and twists beneath him. When he runs his teeth gently against a nipple, Joss moans aloud and when his teeth closes around the other nipple, she shouts, her body shuddering.

While her body is still shuddering, Reese parts her legs, murmuring how sweet she is as he tastes her, his lips first just kissing her mound, then his tongue gently explores her, teasing the sensitive bud, delving deeper and deeper inside her. Her hips buck as she cries out over and over again, her vulva quivering against his mouth. Dizzy with the touch, the taste, the scent of her, he lets Joss push him on his back, watching her as she takes off the strand of pearls.

Joss draws the pearls against his cheek, his lips, his Adam's Apple, down his chest, then over his stomach. She wraps the pearls around his cock, her hand slowly rubbing them up and down the shaft, while her lips encircle the head, sucking deeply, her tongue swirling around the tip. She brings him close to release, then sits back, teasing him, not letting him know when she'll touch him again, over and over until his body is covered in sweat, fists twisting the sheets, his moans low and guttural.

The torture is exquisite and when he can't take anymore, Reese pulls Joss' body against his, kissing her while the pearls unspool from his cock, spilling off the bed and clattering on the floor. Their eyes met and Joss leans back against the pillows, legs parted, opening her arms to him again.

Reese enters her slowly, and it feels so good, so right, that he shakes his head, thinking he doesn't deserve this, doesn't deserve her, but she wraps her arms and legs around him, and their hips now move in that ancient rhythm they mimicked all those days ago on her couch. As the wave of his release builds, he says her name, first in his mind, then as a whisper, then as a roar, for she is everything, his warrior, his lover, his queen, his Amina.

As the wave crests, he cries out, "You're mine, Joss, _mine._" A plea, a warning, a declaration, a vow.

She presses her face against his chest, her lips soothing his raging heartbeat.

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Joss isn't sure what awakens her – perhaps it's the heat from John's body, perhaps she's just not used to having someone share her bed. As she slips out of bed, Reese stirs, reaching for her, and she whispers to him that she'll be right back. She sits in the gliding rocker, letting her eyes flow over John Reese's naked form.

He's lying on his stomach, his right arm and leg stretched out as if they were still covering her body. She's amazed at the scars that cover his back, thighs and calves, even, she smiled softly, a crease on his right buttock. The play of the dark red sheets against his pale skin turns him into sculpted marble, the areas were the sun has touched him highlighting his muscles and sinews. The contrast of his strong body with the vulnerability of his sleeping face, his long dark lashes casting shadows along his cheek, causes the something inside her to surge through her.

She closes her eyes, touches her lips with one hand, while her other hand drifts over her stomach.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. She hears him shifting, knows he is awake.

"Come sit with me, John." The rocker glides back and forth as her hands slide between her breasts, over her thighs. Parting her legs, she arches her back, feeling her nipples harden.

Growling, he swiftly crosses the room, pulling her to her feet. Sliding into the rocker, he draws Joss onto his lap.

Where before Joss received pleasure, now she took it, plundering Reese's mouth with her own, drawing his hands over her body, throwing her head back in abandon as she reached release over and over.

She feels his arousal and wants, needs him inside her. Standing, Joss leans back, taking Reese's cock in her hands, his fingers around her hips steadying her. She draws him into her essence, gasping at how good he feels inside her. Sitting on his lap, she presses her back against his chest, her head lying in the curve of his throat, eyes closed. The rocker glides back and forth faster and faster as their bodies move together.

"Open your eyes, Joss," Reese whispered.

Joss is all sensation now, feeling his lips against her hair, his hands on her breasts and the bud between her thighs, his cock moving deep inside her.

"Open your eyes, Joss," Reese says again, and this time his voice is insistent, urgent.

Their naked bodies are reflected in the large mirror - male, female, hard, soft, colors and shapes and forms shifting over and around each other as they move together.

His eyes meet hers in the glass. "See how beautiful you are, Joss...so beautiful."

Her hair was tangled, body covered with sweat, mouth open and gasping.

Her face was flushed with desire, body undulating against his, sinuous, elegant, and yes, beautiful.

The something inside of her soared and as an explosion raced through her, longer and stronger than anything she had ever felt before, she knew that she could get lost with this man, this arrogant, infuriating, passionate, caring man and that they would find their way back together, bring each other home.

She stands, turns and straddles him, pulling his cock back into her body. Her arms go around him and she kisses him, more deeply and completely than she ever has before, tears spilling over her cheeks as she tries to make him understand, with her lips and her arms and her pulsing heat bringing him even deeper inside her, tries to tell him what she can't say, may never be able to say.

He nods. He understands.

They come home together.

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While Joss is sleeping, Reese slips out of her apartment, retrieving a pannier with his shaving kit and a change of clothes from the Ducati, then stops to get coffee for the both of them before returning…

Home, she said home.

Joss is sitting in bed, the sheet wrapped around her body. Her clothes have been put away and her hair is in a loose ponytail, skin dewy from a quick shower.

He sits next to her on the bed, hands her a cup of coffee - she grabs it out of his hand, sipping greedily.

"You're _welcome_, Detective."

"Take a shower, get that scruff of your face and I'll show you my thanks," she retorts, lowering the sheet so her breasts are exposed.

Minutes later as he slides into bed, he spots a key on a red ribbon on top of the nightstand. It wasn't there the night before.

She picks up the key, slips it in the nightstand drawer. "When you're ready."

He pulls her into his arms, holding her close.

They get lost together.

A/N: *_Death Takes a Holiday_ is a 1934 movie in which Death, takes human form and spends several days at villa, wanting to learn more about why men cling to life. During his time as a mortal, no one dies. While a number of women are attracted to him, they sense his true nature and shy away, afraid. Only one woman knows who Prince Sirki really is and loves him anyway. The 1998 film _Meet Joe Black_ was a version of this story.

Steven Piascik wound up being a much stronger character than I had originally envisioned – so strong he pushed his way into a threesome with John and Joss in the story She Doesn't Have to Choose…yikes! Some folks loved him, others liked him and quite a few absolutely hated him – the reactions were funny and thoughtful.

Steven will appear in a story inspired by a review by persnikitty5, tentatively titled Weekend in New England and Steven, Michelle Hayward and Candace Braithwaite will appear in a story called The Engagement Party.

Thank you again!


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